


The Wedding Night Of River Song

by whovianmuse



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovianmuse/pseuds/whovianmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The best thing about Melody Pond's mum was her imagination: her head was full of mad, impossible stories, and she never grew tired of telling them. Amy told Mels all about the Doctor, how wonderful he was, and all about their terrifying, fantastic adventures together. What Amy had neglected to tell Mels all those years ago was that the Doctor was, in fact, a cheeky bastard with appalling manners and very little common sense. On the eve of Melody's twenty-first birthday, a blue police box appeared outside of her window. She never questioned who he was, or why he had come for her. She simply stepped outside and into the blue box, and the mad man took her to see the stars.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Night Of River Song

            When Melody was a little girl, she had a best friend named Amelia Pond. Like most best friends, Amelia wasn't imaginary, she didn't have a mad appetite or a taste for peculiar attire, and she didn't make promises that she couldn't keep. On the day that Melody was born, Amelia promised her that she would be safe, that she would be brave, and that no matter where she was taken, her parents were coming to find her. That promise, Melody broke on her own, because _she_ found them first. Only, she found them quite a bit earlier than she'd intended to.

            The best thing about Melody's mum was her imagination: her head was full of mad, impossible stories, and she never grew tired of telling them. When they were both seven years old, Amelia told Melody about her imaginary friend: the man from the stars. A mad time traveller who fell from the sky and crashed into her garden. A man who ate fish fingers and custard, and opened a crack in her bedroom wall that splintered off into the end of the universe. A man who promised her that he would take her travelling in his bigger-on-the-inside blue box. A man who made her wait for fourteen years before he finally stole her away.

            She told Melody that she could remember adventures that had never happened: wonderful dreams of faraway planets and the future of Great Britain carried off on the back of a star whale. Of terrible creatures made of stone and reptilian women with fiery tempers. Of millions of spaceships lighting up the sky and nights without any stars at all. Once, she'd said, Rory Williams had been a Roman Centurion, and he had waited for her for two thousand years while she slept in Pandora's box. Mels had never laughed so hard in her life, trying to picture her awkward, gangly father in Roman garb.

            Amy told Mels how wonderful the Doctor was, how he had lost his entire race to a terrible war, and still, he'd soldiered on. How, in all of his nine hundred and seven years, carrying with him all of that pain and misery and loneliness, he'd never once succumbed to violence if he didn't have to. How he'd saved thousands of civilizations, altered entire worlds by changing a single mind, and had even sacrificed himself to reboot the crumbling universe.

            What Amy had neglected to tell Mels all those years ago was that the Doctor was, in fact, a cheeky bastard with appalling manners and very little common sense. On the eve of Melody's twenty-first birthday, a blue police box appeared outside of her window. She never questioned who he was, or why he had come for her. She simply stepped outside and into the blue box, and the mad man took her to see the stars.

            That night, they travelled to Barcelona, a beautiful planet with a temperament to match her own, with chains of active volcanoes surrounding its outskirts like a protective gate, golden skylines blanketing the towers of the inner cities, and beaches with white-hot sand and deep, violet oceans stretching to the edges of the planet's surface. Together, they ran back into the TARDIS, laughing breathlessly, their arms filled with enough Barcelonian chocolates and spirits to last Mels three lifetimes.

            The Doctor set new coordinates, and Mels waited in anticipation for their next destination. Within seconds, the TARDIS had _vworped_ to a halt, and Mels released a gust of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. On the other side of those doors could've been anything at all in the entire universe. This was the adventure she'd been waiting for: for this man to come and take her away. To become more than faery tale and legend. To rewrite time and make her his companion, rather than his assassin. Heart in her throat, Melody pushed open the TARDIS doors, and an ugly grimace spread across her face.

            "Now, this can't be right," she said, stepping out of the comfort of the blue box and into a dimly lit, dark gray corridor. "Where are we?"

            The Doctor smiled sheepishly as he climbed out of the TARDIS. He gently closed the doors with a semi-silent _click_ , looking about the corridors cautiously, as though expecting an ambush at any moment. His eyes met Melody’s and his face broke into a ridiculous grin.

            "Stormcage Containment Facility," he whispered, a ruddy blush settling into his cheeks as he added, "Just popping in to visit a friend."

            In every one of Amy's stories, the Doctor had always been confident, calculated and very, very brave, if a little mad. If Mels didn't know any better, she'd think she was staring at a giddy five-year-old in a man's body. The Doctor’s true intent became evident as Mels observed his nervous laughter, the way he checked the corridors around them so often you'd think he had a tick, and the way he placed special emphasis on the word _friend_.

            "You have got to be kidding me," she nearly shouted, her heart sinking into her stomach. The Doctor placed a finger to his lips and smiled somewhat apologetically.

            "Won't take long, I promise. Well, alright, it might take long. Quite long, actually, as River does like to...anyway, I'll be back in a bit. Promise."

            "And what exactly am I supposed to do while you go off for a random shag?" Mels asked, not bothering to keep her voice down in the slightest. His eyes travelled to the spare guard uniform hanging up on a hook on the opposite wall, and Melody’s mouth dropped open in horror. Confounded by this man's inherent lack of social code, Mels leaned up against the cold, dark gray wall, crossed her arms, and shot him a murderous glare.

            The Doctor said nothing, nervously scrubbing his fingers through his disheveled hair, his blush deepening. He seemed torn between pleading and pouting as he tentatively approached her, careful not to earn a well-deserved slap across the face. He casually slid up against the corridor wall beside her, leaned in close, and gently tucked a strand of her dark, curly brown hair behind her ear, his breath ghosting over her skin as he whispered, _please_.

            She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her skin, willing her to look up at him, and for all of her rebellious charm, he was the one who could melt her resolve with a simple flash of his magnificent smile. She'd only just met him tonight, but she had spent years of her life hearing stories about him, wondering where he'd gone and if he would ever come back. In this moment, he was Amelia's dream, and Melody's reality.

            There he stood, all tweed jacket, braces, boots and bowtie-clad, his white button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows and wrinkled from their adventure on Barcelona. Pale skin brushing sweetly against hers. Soft, pink lips nearly tangible. He was _real_. She could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. And still, he was the one boy Mels couldn't have. He smiled lazily as he traced a fingertip down her cheek and along the bridge of her nose. For a moment, she thought he might change his mind, but his expression shifted and he pulled back, eyeing her cautiously.

            "We have just been to one of the most beautiful planets the universe has to offer. We've seen volcanoes erupt in the distant mountaintops, with the comfort of knowing we can't be touched. We've climbed to the top of the tallest tower and danced in the rays of the setting Barcelonian sun,” he whispered, pausing for a moment to release a short, breathless chuckle as he exchanged his smile for a look of pure longing.

            "And all I could think about was her."

            The words shot through Melody's heart like a dagger, twisting the nerves of her stomach. She refused to look at him, knowing full well that a single glance would fracture her façade.

            "She must be something special," Mels finally managed.

            "Yeah, she is," the Doctor said fondly, "but she's trapped here, and...well, it's not exactly her fault. It's all a bit complicated. I really need to see her tonight, but if the guards ever found out..." The Doctor trailed off, anxiously running his hands through his hair as he peered around the corridor again. He turned back toward Mels, his expression troubled.

            "Will you do this for me? I'll make it up to you one day, I promise."

            _Yeah, sure you will. Go on, then, raggedy man. Twist the knife._

            "Bet that's what you tell all the girls," she said with a humorless chuckle.

            The Doctor smiled, pure and genuine this time, and kissed the top of Melody's forehead in gratitude as he handed her the spare uniform.

            “Doctor," she said, before she could stop herself, "who is she?"

            The Doctor paused on the edge of a clever lie, and then smiled.

            "Spoilers," he said. "Really, though. Ridiculously complicated, timey wimey spoilers. I wish I could tell you, but I just can't."

            Mels rolled her eyes in frustration, growing more irritated with him by the second.

            "Who is she to _you_ , then? Why's she so special? And why tonight?"

            The Doctor's smile widened, and this time, he didn't miss a beat.

            "She's my wife, Mels, and this is our wedding night."

            He gave her a soft smile, turned on his heel, and disappeared down the opposite corridor, swallowed in shadow. With a sob of despair, Melody sank to the floor, the overlarge guard's cap sinking down over her eyes.

            "Never fall in love with a man from the stars," she whispered sadly, pulling a small bottle of Barcelona's finest chocolate liqueur from her purse. She smiled softly and downed a quarter of the bottle, delighting in its truly foreign, fantastic taste. The cruel irony of the situation, of where she had ended up tonight and who with finally registered, and Mels couldn't help but laugh.

            "Especially one you're meant to murder."

 

* * *

 

            This wasn't the Doctor's first time in Stormcage, and it certainly wasn't his first time in prison, but that's a different story entirely. He found River instantly: the only light in this dark corridor, with rows of narrow containment cells and an eerie silence radiating chills throughout any passerby that dared walk its halls. Most of the inmates had already gone to sleep, as it was well past four in the morning, with the exception of River Song. There she sat, cuddled up in the corner of her tiny bed, covers pulled up to her chin, and a dark blue journal resting across her lap. She looked up the moment his fingers slid around the metal bars, and her lips curled into a smile.

            "And what sort of time do you call this?" she scolded as she shrugged out of her comforter to check the clock on her vortex manipulator, revealing perfectly-curled blonde hair that fell in rivulets to her shoulders. The Doctor flashed her his best apologetic smile, and whipped his sonic screwdriver from a pocket in his tweed jacket, unlocking the cell with a simple _click_.

            "Thought I'd make a house call," he said, strolling into her room and observing the monotonous color of the walls with a look of disgust. It seemed unfair, really, that River had spent nearly all of her life in one form of a prison or another, but the Doctor was determined to make it up to her. It was, after all, in a very twisted way, his own fault that she was here.

            "Where are we off to this time?" River asked, appearing behind him suddenly. Her hands curved around the muscles of his arms, her scarlet fingernail paint a stark contrast to her pale skin. He curled into her touch, and found himself properly dumbstruck. River pressed herself against him, the only fabric between her skin and his clothes a white silken nightgown, flowing from the curve of her breasts to the floor, like an intimate wedding dress. The Doctor could only stare, incapable, for the first time in his life, of speech.

            "Nowhere," he finally managed. "We're staying right here."

            "But, sweetie, the guards..."

            "I've brought someone with me, and she's agreed to stand guard out in the main corridor."

            "Oh God. You haven't got Amy—"

            "No, no, of course not," he quickly amended, making a face, "it's someone else. Someone you might recall from a very, very long time ago."

            Realization dawned on River as the blurred, forgotten memory returned to her. She promptly smacked the Doctor on the arm and hissed, "You bad, bad man. You made me believe I was _dreaming it all up_ that night."

            "Did I? Well, suppose I will have," he said shamefully, rubbing his arm absentmindedly. River moved in closer again, a flurry of emotions flashing across her eyes as she stared into his.

            "You _really_ hurt me that night. I spent all that time trying not to think about the fact that you were here with another woman, and...well, now I suppose that woman was me, and...this is all a bit confusing, isn't it? It's still difficult to remember. Obviously, the Barcelonian liqueur served its purpose. Had a bit too much, though. Trouble keeping it down. Speaking of which, I _am_ sorry about your glass floor..."

            The Doctor made a face, but reasoned that he probably deserved it after the way he'd hurt Mels. The way he was _currently_ hurting Mels. He tried to comfort himself with the fact that he was doing the right thing. That he would make it up to her, someday. That he was about to make it up to her right now.

            "Doctor, why did you bring her here?" River asked, the sorrow in her voice prickling the back of his throat as he fought for a reasonable answer.

            "Why did you pull a gun on me and blow holes in my TARDIS?" he retorted.

            "Fair enough," she said, rolling her eyes. "Still, that is quite an evil revenge tactic. In her timeline, she hasn't even done it yet."

            "Let's just call it preemptive punishment," he said. "Besides which, Kovarian and her army of religious whatsits raised you to become a weapon. You were meant to despise everything that I am, to want to kill me. That event, _my death_ , as you well know, is a fixed point in time. I couldn't have you spoiling history just because I'm irresistible and you happened to fall for me."

            "Oh, I hate you," she said, smiling in spite of her vexation.

           "You see? My plan worked. But really, you don't," he said, taking her hands in his and lightly kissing her palms. She sighed and fell into his arms, tracing the curves of his shoulders with her fingertips, and nestled into the arch of his neck.

            "What brings you here, then, if not some mad adventure that will most likely get us killed, in spite of our established timeline?"

           " _That_ was in a different universe," she laughed, swatting him delicately on the head as he attempted to snake his hands underneath her nightgown.

            "I can remember it. Every detail of that day exactly. So I'm still counting it."

            "Oh, shut up," she teased, pulling him closer and curling her fingers into the strands of his hair as he hungrily kissed every inch of her skin that wasn't covered in the fine fabric of her nightgown. The Doctor, of course, had every intention of removing that pretty little hindrance.

            "Make me," he growled, winding himself around her like a helix, until there was nothing left between them but the steam of their breath and the touch of skin against skin.

 

* * *

 

            When the Doctor crept back into the main corridor several hours later, it was to find that Mels had completely disappeared. Silently panicking, he threw his hands into the pockets of his tweed jacket, frantically searching for his sonic. He felt a poke in the small of his back, and whipped around to find River, her hair now properly disheveled, handing him his screwdriver. She then pointed to the corner of the corridor, where a young girl slept soundlessly in the shadows, curled up in an overlarge guard's uniform and slumped against the front doors of the TARDIS.

            "Penny in the air," River said, giggling at the Doctor's complete disregard for the obvious. He smiled in relief, wrapped his arms around River's waist, and kissed her with all of the strength he had left, promising he'd come see her again soon.

            "I know," she whispered, kissing him softly, before wandering down the corridor and returning to her cell. The Doctor sighed as he strolled over to where Mels slept. Not wanting to wake her, he delicately removed the guard's uniform, hung it back up on its hook, and carried her into the TARDIS. He lay her down on the newly-conjured couch, and bundled her up in his tweed jacket, silently thanking the TARDIS for being so accommodative.

            On cue, Mels promptly turned over, mumbled, "and the penny drops," and covered his shiny glass floor in her sick. The Doctor grimaced in disgust, but quickly converted his expression to a smile, and kneeled down beside her. He brushed her hair back from out of her eyes and kissed the top of her forehead, and Mels smiled contentedly in her sleep. The Doctor sighed heavily, shifted to the controls and set the coordinates for Melody's backyard. He landed as quietly as he could, found his way to her bedroom, and tucked her up into her bed.

            In the morning, Mels awoke, disorientated and quite hung-over, her purse empty of Barcelonian spirits, her mind filled with brand new, impossible dreams that she could swear were real, and an ache in her heart that she couldn't quite explain. It was all a bit shambolic, but if Mels was certain of anything, it was this: it wouldn't be the last she'd see of that mad time traveller and his bigger-on-the-inside blue box.


End file.
